


Take You Away, Shield You From the World

by 2am_limbo



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Relationship, Johnlock Fluff, Johnlock Roulette, M/M, Missing Scene, Sweet Sherlock, Whiny Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5173595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2am_limbo/pseuds/2am_limbo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"John. Let me take you away."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take You Away, Shield You From the World

“John?” Sherlock whispered in the darkness, fully alert.

John hummed in response, half asleep. He was used to Sherlock not sleeping while John tried, but Sherlock always loved laying with him at night anyway. It soothed him, calmed his mind. Tonight, though, John barely stirred, didn’t even really register that Sherlock was trying to get his attention. 

“John.” John grunted and shifted under the sheets, his eyes scrunching tightly in irritation.

“ _Joooohhhnnn_ ,” Sherlock whined, huffed, and shoved his cold feet against John’s legs.

“Christ, Sherlock! What do you _want_?”

“Let me take you away,” Sherlock replied, not missing a beat.

John’s brow furrowed in sleepy confusion, slowly starting to become more alert at Sherlock’s words.

“What?”

“Let me take you away from here for a few days. A week. Two weeks. Whatever you want.” Sherlock had that excited tone in his voice. That _there’s been a triple homicide -- it’s like Christmas, John!_ type of excited tone.

“Why?” John had opened his eyes now, allowing them to adjust to the darkness, and slowly focusing on Sherlock’s face. He was completely serious, looking desperate and almost… terrified. He looked like a trapped animal backed into a corner.

“Everything going on lately. I’m tired, John. I’m _so tired_ , and I can tell you are, too.”

John didn’t speak for a minute, his mind still hazy from sleep. He closed his eyes for a second, blinked a couple times. “Come here, you.”

Sherlock shimmied over closer to John, letting the man wrap an arm around his waist. John nuzzled in against Sherlock’s chest, taking in the smell of Sherlock -- ginger and sandalwood and cigarette smoke. Smiling to himself against Sherlock’s chest.

“Name anywhere.” Sherlock said, voice even. John didn’t respond. He simply laid there against Sherlock, taking in the moment. The feel of Sherlock’s slender, strong form, the smoothness of his skin, how he can always feel whatever Sherlock is feeling as it radiates from his skin.

“ _Jooooohnnnn_.” Sherlock groaned dramatically, squirming, unable to flail his limbs around as he does with John wrapped around him.

“How about…” John didn’t finish his thought, smiling again to himself.

“You are intolerable.”

 

\---

 

Sherlock reached the front counter of the posh yet incredibly cozy inn in two long strides, hands behind his back calmly, but he was excited, bouncing slightly on the heels of his feet. After checking in, John and Sherlock made their way up two flights of stairs to their room, a fancy and comfy room decorated in pumpkin rust colors, golds, and browns. There was a queen size bed with a kitchenette, complete with a kettle, and en suite bathroom. Sherlock threw himself down on the bed excitedly, and John grinned at the sight before him. Regardless of the facade he puts up to the world, the sheer brilliance of this genius man, he’s still a child at heart, complete with temper tantrums. But on these occasions, Sherlock’s excitement and happiness warms John’s heart, and suddenly he feels very protective of him, wanting to shield him from the entire world. It was a deep ache, and the intensity of it caused John’s breath to hitch.

Sherlock looked so handsome, so beautiful, lying on his back there on the bed. His arms were outstretched at his sides, starfished, looking up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, feeling himself sink into the bed. After a moment, he opened his eyes and slowly turned his head to John, still standing near the entrance.

“John?” Sherlock looked concerned for a second.

“Hm?” John made his way over to the side of the bed, leaning down close to Sherlock’s face, and kissing his forehead.

“I love you.” John murmured, and Sherlock peered back up at him, beaming.

“Lay with me, John.” John laid down on the bed next to Sherlock, propped up on his elbow to look at Sherlock resting. The man never ceased to take his breath away, and John suspected that Sherlock knew what he did to him. He had to, he was Sherlock bloody Holmes. Sherlock closed his eyes again when John placed his free hand on Sherlock’s stomach, absently running his hand over the flat plane of his stomach and around his slender, sharp hips.

“How’re you feeling? As good as you hoped?”

Sherlock smiled softly. “It’s amazing. This is better than being high,” Sherlock purred. “Who knew _rest_ could feel so _good_.” John snorted and rolled his eyes.

“You’re ridiculous.”


End file.
